Report-Back

 Almost a year after the event itself, we've received a report-back about the 2012 DIY Sailboat Meetup. The writeup tells of the happenings of the event, but focuses more on how the event came to be and where the energy around it could go. It aims to tell the folks who couldn't make it what they missed along with how the event was hopefully a small ripple in a larger current. For the attendees, it offers encouragement to continue such efforts along with a few simple critiques.
A direct link to the pdf is here.

The file is hosted on the page of an ongoing project that came out of the Meetup that we encourage everyone to enjoy and potentially contribute to. The project, currents against us, aims to document what adventures and projects we find ourselves in with hopes that it will generate more sub-culture around our efforts and therefore more community:
currents against us

The pdf contains pictures as well. The text is as follows:




For No One Else Will Bother
-a report back and reflection on the 2012 DIY Sailboat Meetup in Rio Dulce, Guatemala.

This is my personal analysis as one of the organizers of the 2012 DIY Sailboat Meetup. While it does talk about the happenings of the event, I focus more on the larger context of where the energy for the meetup came from and where it’s going. For a play-by-play on the meetup itself, I’d suggest looking at the schedule and imagining every event going amazingly well and full of wonderful people.


There’s nothing quite as beautiful to a sailor as a properly trimmed sailing vessel making way through the water. Sailboats often represent escape from our current conditions, alluding to a life that we romanticize to be simpler and more free. We’re captivated by the idea of freedom of movement gifted by the simple forces of wind and tide; carrying us to lands yet undiscovered, or perhaps just a departure from whatever dismal routine we feel trapped in. With every square inch of land divvyed up and sold, many of us struggle to live in the margins. The sea provides a frontier where we can attempt to carve out a space for ourselves, our sailing vessels the flagships of this imperative.
                While the joy of your vessel aptly sailing through the seas often fills your heart with a deep joy, many an eye fixed on the horizon has watered up to the sight of a fleet of vessels under sail. I have a very distinct memory of looking astern while sailing under the bridge connecting Rellenos to Fronteras on the Rio Dulce to see a small fleet of vessels under sail. This rag-tag armada was composed of a myriad of sailboats: a beautiful black and red steel junk-rigged schooner, a home-made outrigger sailing proa, a 53’ A-framed staysail schooner, and of course the slew of plastic sloop-rigged sailboats. Seeing a boat under sail always gets my attention. It’s a common sentiment amongst sailors that the auxiliary component of sailboats has switched from the engine to the sailing rig. Case in point being although Rio Dulce is one of the largest cruiser havens in the Caribbean, seeing a vessel under sail there is a rarity. Although many of us can offer reason after reason that sailing a boat is more efficient than motoring one, in reality it’s more work in the immediate and, considering the size of engines in boats nowadays, slower in most conditions. I stand by the fact that a large element of the motivation to sail is that it’s fulfilling, and fun. I can, and often, go sailing in protected waters and see vessels under sail abound. It’s wonderful, many of us sail in these places for that beauty. Although only the rarest of sailing vessels pass by an old salt without a glancing criticism (under-canvassed, ridiculous hull design, poorly trimmed, etc.), many of us do want to be around other sailboats under sail, and therefore other sailors. Seeing this fleet astern gave me that satisfaction, but what made it special was that all of them came here to meet each other and sail together. We all traveled multiple hundreds of miles from ports far and wide to take a small portion of the water for ourselves temporarily. Many folks traveled to Rio Dulce by land, romanced by the myths of sailing and what escaping to the water could mean for them. To finally, after years of living on my boat and sailing around, meet other sailors that had the hint of a similar dream as myself and came from a relatable cultural place was unprecedented, and incredibly special.
                This was the 2012 DIY Sailboat Meetup. Debatably one of the least creatively named events in history, it started as a call out for ourselves, our friends, and like-minded individuals to come together for a week in Rio Dulce, Guatemala, and see what could happen. In the beginning, that was one of the most exciting aspects: we didn’t know what the event would look like. In the months following the announcement of “the meetup,” people communicated their thoughts and desires for it online and with their friends. It was taking shape as a mostly educational event where we would share our knowledge and skills with each other, adventures shoved in the margins. More and more people started signing up to go and expressing their interest in attending, definitely more people than we originally thought would be interested. One of the first visions of the event was us boat-owners sitting around fixing up our old broken boats together. While this looked like a great event, it was becoming apparent that sailing was interesting enough for many other people to travel all the way to Guatemala to pursue. Although I never consider enthusiasm online as a reliable representation of what something will look like in reality, it was looking bigger than we first predicted.
                The organizers and a gaggle of attendees scrambled down the Caribbean and were all present in Rio Dulce by the beginning of February. Having the organizers together and in the place where the event was going to be held caused the logistics to come together quickly. A schedule with events, workshops, presentations, and most importantly bottom-liners, barely beat the date set for the meetup to begin. The day or two before things started we questioned if anyone would actually show up, if the meetup would just be us and one or two punks. That would have been fine, but what was even better was that on the starting date seven vessels and around fifty people were in attendance. One of the venues, at first very hesitant to work with us fearing the event wouldn’t manifest into anything, threw us a party with snacks and a hand-made banner that night. For the organizers it was overwhelming, we had talked about this happening since we met. We were surrounded by people who did, or were interested in, the thing we had been doing for years. There was a lot of energy and excitement abound, the meetup was happening.
                Since the whole focus of the meetup was the beauty of sail, we started things with the fleet setting sail. Once the wind filled in, all vessels, filled with attendees, cruised to the mouth of Lago Izabel, Gautemala’s largest lake and a fantastic site to learn the ropes. Seeing all that canvas full of wind was a beautiful to site to all sailors present. For the boat owners, getting to share our vessels and experience was very rewarding. Often we get stuck on our little boats tinkering away for eternity, forgetting that the whole reason we have these things is to go sailing. Other people’s enthusiasm and interest was invigorating, making friends along the way was a wonderful reward. Afterwards we told stories of voyages past, most of them riddled with broken boats and us rookie sailors working through complicated situations we weren’t yet equipped to handle. The week was full of workshops where we shared the skills and knowledge we had around the nautical arts and how they aligned with our lives. We talked about weather, fishing, navigation, engines, how to get along in tiny demanding floating spaces, women’s experiences with boats, what our politics could look like at sea, and many other skills and issues. At night we played music, danced, had formal dress-up parties, trivia, a limbo competition, and in general celebrated and socialized. Throughout the meetup we went sailing, had hands-on workshops on our boats, and at the end held a mini-regatta (complete with awards ceremony). Although the week we set aside for the meetup felt like a daunting length of time at first, it passed quickly and eventfully.  While the happenings of the event were informative, fun, and exciting it was, like always, the relationships formed and connections made that were the most valuable. After all, the whole point of the meetup was for us to get together. The events were just a structure for us to interact in.
                For some context of where the whole meetup came from, when I was anchored in the Bahamas several years prior I caught a glimpse of a group of people rowing their dinghy. Constantly berated by the wake of passing outboard motors, rowing a dinghy was something that we did that often separated us from other cruisers. Upon closer inspection, the occupants rowing were geared in the traditional garb of “my people”: black, dreadlocks, and patches. Despite that we were dressed in our finest khakiflodge for ease of social movement, a friendship was sparked that put the idea that other folks like ourselves could be out there, searching for each other. The things that defined us and the nodes of affinity that drew us together were both broadly emotional and incredibly sub-cultural. Finding ourselves in our 30s and 20s we were younger than most cruisers, who average a post-retirement age. We were poorer than most cruisers as well, having not worked our whole lives in preparation for the departure of moving onto a sailboat. Many of us have similar points of reference such as coming from, and for some of us being over, punk and DIY subculture. Often we have suspicion, and outright contempt, for hierarchy in all forms, especially the ones we find ourselves at the brunt of. With a few years on the water behind me, I had met some folks I could relate to but being that culturally I, and many of my peers, come from such a specific and often rare-feeling social niche, I was still yearning to find people I could have a deeper connection with. I had been sailing the seas with my friends for a few years, I knew that other people were out there who felt similar to me. We just needed to find each other.
                There are many ways to say it, but I wanted to meet the other punks, anarchists, queers, and wingnuts that came from the same sub-cultures as me and were interested in sailing. I’ve spent most of my life in those circles, I don’t want to abandon them whenever I take a new path in life. A majority of the sailing community I’ve met and I have fundamental differences in our ethics and views. We can have relationships of convenience and help each other out, pass the time here and there, but there’s little depth to those relationships. I, and many others, wanted to find people we could connect with in a more real way.
                So the punks kept in touch. We shared plans and spoke of how we wanted to get together again. The oceans are large, and our boats slow, making these aspirations difficult to achieve. We shared this desire to meet each other and the others interested in life at sea. All of us had friends who were interested in sailboats and had started taking steps towards moving onto the water; it felt like there was some momentum happening. We messily slapped together a plan, emphasizing that it needed to happen before we could even think of what it would look like, and started promoting the DIY Sailboat Meetup. A lot of folks came out of the woodwork and expressed excitement for this proposal, often sharing that they too had thought to try to put something like it together, which showcased how this need for community wasn’t just with the few of us who were doing the organizing. The meetup brought this confusing idea into reality, and gave us some context for what we actually had. There were more of us with more energy and interest than we expected, quite the exciting reality to be equipped with. When the meetup finished we all had a good feeling of what was ahead, and that we had just found something special.
                After the event many people stayed in Rio Dulce. We rafted a bunch of the boats together and had parties, went out sailing again, headed out on adventures. In general we celebrated our friendships, new and old. People started departing slowly, heading home or continuing traveling. Many of us set out to sea, naturally. Some with cruisers from Rio Dulce, some with boats from the attending fleet, and one bought a boat and sailed away with other attendees. Not so secretly, that was one of my desired outcomes of the meetup: for folks there to get a boat and sail away. On the last day of the event we debriefed and talked about what we wanted to see in the future. There was a lot of energy and momentum amongst us. We all expressed how the event was a success, surprisingly without any disasters, and would like to see something like it again in the future. We talked about how it could have been better, and took notes on improvements to make if there was to be a next time. We shared contacts, and again vowed to keep in touch.
                It’s almost been a year since the meetup. We’ve all had plenty of time to reflect on it and see what the lasting effects of it were. One of the most obvious, and I feel most positive, things that came from it were the relationships. A lot of us since the meetup have traveled to spend time with each other. We’ve sailed together and called on each other for crew and sailing opportunities. We’ve gotten to tell our friends who couldn’t attend about it and spread the myth of what it was like around our circles. Friendships were made, many of which we’ll potentially keep forever. We attempted to stay in touch and carry the momentum for the project through the internet in the form of a listserv. In the past, this has always proven to be ineffective and an unoriginal way to kill the energy for a project. This is true for this one as well, the listserv is mostly dead although every once in a while there will be some exciting post about someone getting a boat or helping others get on the water. There was a call-out for submissions to write a report back from the meetup, which spurred excitement and commitment originally, but didn’t showcase a single submission. The event reflected that many of us came from DIY punk; it looked like many other events of that era and from that ideology. This caused it to go smoothly because we were working with what we knew, but at the same time we took the potential for something we thought to be unprecedented and confined it into the tired realms we’ve stagnated in. I think this was a failed opportunity for our imaginations to really test themselves and make something more intentional that directly catered to what we were looking for.
                At the surface the relationships we made were relationships of convenience. Just because someone looks punk, is an anarchist, travels, or has any of the other sub-cultural norms that brought us together doesn’t mean we’ll actually connect. As we explored this sense of community with each other we found some relationships that were worth keeping and ones that weren’t. I don’t want everyone to be friends, but want to illustrate that when we’re drawn together from things as shallow as sailing and DIY punk, for instance, we have a lot more to find if we want to create real meaningful connections. Ultimately we all left and went back to our lives, some having gained friends and experiences that they can carry with them. For some of us it’ll have been a less cathartic Burning Man, an escape from our usual routines and something we can talk about as “this thing we did in our youth.” If the pinnacle of this energy we’re talking about was the meetup, then the effort was a failure. Getting together once was just saying hello, we have much more to explore from there. One of the successes of the meetup was that many of us are still in close touch and are currently sailing together. We’re working on writing projects, planning futures, promoting each other’s endeavors, and getting more like-minded folks out on the water. It feels like there’s more and more of us every time we look. With the ubiquity of travelers romanced by the sea, it’s unlikely this is new or radical at all. We just happen to now be privy to it, and perhaps usher people’s dreams into reality a little more.
 As we get to know each other, hopefully we’ll make spaces that are more directly relating to what we want to find. Meetups that are more specific to our needs and what we want out of community. For myself I’d like to see something longer lasting, where we’re not all atomized individuals fighting the same fight scattered around the world who see each other on a rare occasion. A few of us are doing that in the way of traveling together, but we’re still a tiny number of people on a tiny space surrounded by an alienating and threatening world and culture. The water doesn’t feel as free at it once did as we get to know it better. I still want to carve out a space for ourselves, and figure out what that could look like. The meetup was done in a way where the happening was emphasized, the content secondary. I think that’s the perspective to start from if we want this to go places we find exciting, we risk all the energy funneling into tried and defeated channels otherwise. The most formidable enemy of what we can do is our fear of our imaginations.

currentsagainstus.wordpress.com 




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